Page 25 of Single Dad Dilemma
“My kids are going to call any minute,” I told him. “If you want to join me tomorrow morning, I’m having breakfast with your receivers. I think we’re done here.”
He didn’t answer, simply looked down at the ground for a second, then shoved the conference room door open and stormed back out into the hallway.
I sank into a chair, braced my elbows on the table, and let my head rest in my hands.
Chapter Seven
Lily
At 3:25 p.m. the next day, Larry lost his shit at the front window, heralding the arrival of my two new afternoon buddies. By the time I opened the door to make sure they remembered to head in my direction, Maggie and Bryce were already sprinting up the driveway. In their hands were bags full of winter gear for recess, even though there was hardly any snow on the ground, their cheeks were flushed, eyes bright with excitement.
“Well, hello,” I greeted them.
“Hi,” Maggie said. “What’s your favorite color?”
I blinked. “Favorite color to wear and use in everyday life? Or just in general? Because there’s a difference.”
Maggie peeled off her yellow coat to reveal a yellow shirt. “To wear,” she stated.
“Black,” I said on a sigh. She did not look impressed by this answer. “Boring, I know, but it goes with everything.”
“Huh.” Then she shrugged. “Mine is yellow. My bedroom is yellow, and my bedspread is yellow. I tried to get Dad to paint the family room yellow, too, but he said no. I’d have yellow everything if I could get away with it.”
I smiled. “How’s it going, Bryce? How was your day?”
“Stupid. We didn’t learn anything.” Bryce dumped his backpack onto the floor, tossing his winter bag on top of it. “I don’t understand why we can’t just do, like, a four-hour school day. I think the teachers would be happier too.”
“Wouldn’t you learn less if you were only there for four hours?” I asked.
Maggie unloaded her mountain of crap in the same pattern as her brother. “It’s impossible not to learnanythingat school. You’re just not paying attention, which is why your grades aren’t as good as mine.”
Bryce rolled his eyes but didn’t seem too bothered by his sister’s ribbing. He sat on the floor to greet Larry, grinning when he received a small lick on the hand for his efforts. The kid was gentle, I’d give him that. I figured a preteen would come in like a freight train, but he was surprisingly careful when he reached forward and scratched Larry on the top of his head. Then he straightened, taking a deep inhale. “Did you make cookies?”
“Of course. It’s the greatest thing I can contribute to society as a whole—fresh-baked cookies on a cold school day.”
His eyes rolled back in his head like he’d already bitten into one. “What kind?”
“Chocolate chip,” I whispered.
He was halfway to the kitchen when he called over his shoulder, “Can I have however many I want?”
“Let’s start with two and work from there, okay?”
Maggie tugged off her winter cap, her shoulder-length hair lifting into the air from the static electricity. I shook my head and tried to smooth it down. “And your day, little miss?”
“Good,” she stated with a shrug. “I like school. It’s easy.”
“The smart kids always say that,” I whispered.
“That’s what my dad says too.” She paused. “Or that I’m too smart for my own good.”
“Yeah, you and I are going to have a chat about the background-check thing.”
Maggie scrunched up her face. “Sorry.”
I squeezed her shoulder. “It’s all right. Just don’t go spreading it around the neighborhood, okay?” When she nodded solemnly, I nudged her toward the kitchen. “Go get a couple cookies before your brother eats them all.”
There was something a little magical about making good food for people. I was no chef, and I ate takeout more than I should, but even for someone like me—a wanderer who spent more time alone than not—I could’ve sat in that kitchen all day to watch them eat those still-warm cookies.
